Compression
by keep-swinging
Summary: Max chooses to sacrifice Arcadia Bay. The aftermath of her choices and what she's been through leaves scars, and the next twenty-four hours are just enough time for her walls to come crashing down. / angst, family. one-shot.


~Author's Note~

Hey everyone! I just recently played through this entire game in a span of like two days a few weeks ago and I loved it. The only thing I didn't like was the endings. So, I've decided to fix that. This story works as a continuation to the 'Sacrifice Arcadia Bay' ending (I'm planning to write a separate fic for the 'Sacrifice Chloe' ending) and is a friendship fic between Chloe and Max but feel free to read it how you want to.

This is my first ever 'Life is Strange' fic, so any type of feedback would mean a whole lot! Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys!

 **Rated Teen** for sensitive topics/scenes, some language, angst, and barely there violence.

 **Notes:** Continuation from the 'Sacrifice Arcadia Bay' Ending.

* * *

Compression

* * *

we've played hide and seek in waterfalls  
we were younger  
we were younger

* * *

.

.

The tornado is a loud scream in her ears, swirling ever closer as she tries to outrun it.

Her shoes are filled with salt water and make sharp squeaky noises each time they smack into the wet pavement beneath her, and her dark hair is a mess as the wind throws it from side to side. She struggles to dodge overturned cars in the middle of the street as the wind howls and fallen poles blocking entrances to buildings as the rain slams into her skin so hard it feels like needles falling from the sky.

The ocean roars from somewhere far off, demanding bodies, demanding destruction, as they run from it and she turns her head slightly to make sure Chloe is still trailing behind her.

But her heart stops when her eyes aren't met by the sight of Chloe's bright blue hair.

Her feet skid to a stop as she twists around and scans the broken road, being pushed aside by a few people bumping starkly into her shoulder as they scurry past her, but there's no sign of Chloe anywhere.

She wants to call out for her, but her voice is stuck in her throat, refusing to come out, and her stomach is stirring so much she thinks she might just be sick when visions of her friend's body wrapped around a tree stump invade her mind. After all she's done to save her, after all they've survived—now she's going to lose her to a freak tornado raging through Arcadia Bay.

A tornado that's technically her fault, might she add.

As the tornado engulfs the bottom half of the town, she sees her out of the corner of her eye.

Chloe's running towards her as fast as her legs can carry her, but it's not fast enough and the tornado is catching up. She goes to call out to her best friend, to move towards her, but instead finds she can't move, instead finds that she's stuck still like glue.

Chloe's lips are moving, saying something she can't hear because of the distance separating them but before much else can happen a dumpster comes barreling out of nowhere and slams into Chloe.

She's knocked backwards from the force, and blood is left in her wake as she stumbles half-dead forwards two steps; but it's not enough. The tornado rumbles as it gobbles her up like someone eating turkey at Thanksgiving dinner, and then she's gone. Chloe's gone and it's like the world's stopped spinning, like that's _it_ and oh God what is she going to tell Joyce and—

"Max."

She's startled awake by Chloe's voice in her ear and a hand on her shoulder as she lifts her head and blinks a few times to get rid of the grogginess still lingering with her before focusing on the tired face of her best friend.

"Evening, sleeping beauty," she teases before leaning forwards and twisting the key dangling from the ignition in the opposite direction of Max. The truck's engine sputters to a stop with a loud creak of protest as Chloe shoves the panda-robot key-chain into her pocket. "We're about halfway out of the state."

Max doesn't know where they're driving to, exactly.

She's pretty sure Chloe doesn't know either. All Max knows is that she made her decision and this was their decision. To leave—together.

Chloe unbuckles her seatbelt and Max does the same, watching as the former reaches into her other pocket and pulls out a few crumbled bills and some loose change. She begins to count it out in her palms, mumbling jumbled numbers under her breath, when Max remembers there's no need for that.

She reaches down and grabs her bag, digging around inside the ratty thing for a moment, before finding what she was looking for and pulling it out. Her mother had given her a credit card for emergencies before she left Seattle, and she hadn't needed to use it since, so unless it was shutdown somehow, there still should've been a few grand on there, waiting to be used.

Max passes the card over to Chloe, who eyes it with interest before stuffing her pitiful amount of money back in her pocket and taking it. "My parents give it to me before I left. For emergencies." Max explains quietly as she places her bag back on the floor of the truck, giving her best reassuring smile.

She knows Chloe sees through her façade easily, but Chloe says nothing of it as she clambers out of the truck. She turns around and leans her elbows on the frame of the open window, "Sure they wouldn't mind us using this baby for gas and a couple packs of cigs?" Max shakes her head and Chloe grins. "Cool. Want anything?"

"I'm good," she says as she eyes the shabby gas station they've stopped at, and she's not blind to the few strangers hanging around the store entrance with lit cigarettes in one hand and opened beers in the other, "but be careful, okay? I don't like the looks of this place."

Chloe pushes herself off the truck and waves a hand, "After all we've been through and you don't think I can handle some shady dirt bags?" Max says nothing, but the look of poorly-hidden fear in her eyes is enough to make Chloe reach back in the truck and grab Max's hand. She squeezes it once, like it's her promise to come back in once piece, before letting go again. "I'll be careful. Promise. Be back before you know it."

With a final beam Max's way Chloe makes the trek towards the store and disappears inside. Max leans her head back against the window, letting out a long sigh as she scans the place they're currently stopped at.

They're parked next to a slightly rusty gas pump, and the smell of fresh gas is strong from the open window as cars scuttle in and out of the station. The store itself is small, with a busted window on one side and the other covered by flimsy cardboard. The four older man standing next to the entrance are big and burly, harassing people as they hurry by and laughing when they get a middle-aged woman to flip them the bird as she heads back to her parked car.

Looking past the store is a few large mountains stretching the distance of a football field, and behind them the sun is lowering itself behind the horizon. Evening is rolling around with a soft breeze as the sky slowly turns from a faded orange color to a dark blue.

Max sighs again, and remembers why she had fallen asleep in the first place.

The sound of the truck's tires on the vast open road was enough to take the feeling of being a murderer off her shoulders, enough to make her stomach feel like it wasn't churning with guilt. She doesn't know why but she also feels exhausted, drained—disgusted in her own skin. Mute. She had been tossing multiple thoughts around her brain before she had fallen asleep, but one hadn't left her.

Her decision was selfish. It was. Saving one person over an entire town?

It sat like a rock in her stomach, like a lump in her throat. She killed an entire town for one person. But, at the same time; Max spent an entire week (was it really only a week?) making sure her best friend didn't die. Preventing her death, going to extremes to save it, to fix it.

So . . . was it really selfish to choose Chloe Price over Arcadia Bay?

"Alright Super Max I know you said you didn't want anything but they had pepperoni pizza flavored combos, which are your fav, so I had to hook you up."

Max's thought process is shattered by Chloe's cheery voice as she plops a plastic bag filled with food on the driver's seat, looking over at Max with a satisfied smile that says _told you I'd be right back_. "Also got you a Pepsi."

Max lifts her head and reaches over for the bag as Chloe pats the side of the truck and moves to fill up the gas tank. Max picks through the bag until she finds her combos and drink, pulling them out and chuckling at what the rest of the contents are. There's a bottle of Sprite, two bags of plain potato chips and three small boxes of cigarettes.

She puts the bag back down and opens up her combos, tossing a few into her mouth and her stomach growls in approval. She's finishing off the bag by the time Chloe finishes with the gas, handing the credit card back over to Max. She smells of fumes and burnt hotdogs.

The latter says nothing, and Chloe would be lying if she Max's standoffish attitude wasn't unnerving her. After she starts the truck back up, she reaches over and rests a hand on Max's shoulder. "You okay, Spider-Max?" Max nods, resting her own hand on top of Chloe's.

"I'm hella fine." The lie slides through her teeth far too easily and she hates it.

Chloe nods with a laugh, pulling back her hand and rolling up her window a tad as she begins to pull away. "Well, while you're still conscious, mind opening up a bag of chips for me?" Max shakes her head, but does so anyway.

"You're so needy," she jokes, trying to ease the tension of her last answer.

Chloe glances over at her with a twinkle in her eye, punching Max playfully in the shoulder before stealing a chip and looking back to the road. "Don't know what I would do without ya, Super Max." She retorts, munching on her potato chip as they drive away.

Max stays awake long enough to keep a one-sided conversation going for a while, Chloe droning on about literally anything just to try and get a reaction out of her friend that wasn't a nod or simple yes, no answer.

She dozes off when the sun finally settles and the sky turns black.

* * *

Max dreams of splotchy greys and deep blacks and blood reds and bright rainbows.

The colors are welcomed, because Max rather dream of colors instead of tornados.

But then the colors wash away like paper burning under fire, and it all crashes down soon after that. Mark Jefferson appears before her, and she's captive again— _stuck_ again—and she's at his mercy.

He moves her arms and legs to how he wants them to be, how he wants her to look and shouts every time she tries to move her own limbs. It looks real, it sounds real, and it feels real; like she never really escaped from this wretched place. She feels helpless, like all the girls before her, and the drugs are preventing her from using her powers and it's the most horrible feeling in the world.

The saddest part of all is that Jefferson is succeeding—he's succeeding in stripping away her innocence. Max never thought, of all things, that would be the thing she would lose first. She never thought it would happen to her either, such a hideous thing.

She's shaken out of her thoughts by Jefferson's calloused hands readjusting her ankles, muttering to himself in approval as Max struggles to stay alert. The clicks from the camera he's using echo around the bright room a few times, and she can't help but flinch at each loud noise because whatever drug that's in her is making her senses function all out of order.

She nearly slips back asleep when her eyes flutter close by mishap and then accidentally lurches her leg out when Jefferson goes to move her knee forwards a little. He lets out a low growl and charges towards her face, camera around his neck long forgotten as he grabs Max harshly by the chin.

"I told you not to move!"

His voice is so brash it causes Max to wince as Jefferson shakes his head and stands up. He turns away and then comes back a minute later, filled needle in hand. "Another dose should calm you down," he says in a voice that's sickly sweet, and if Max could think straight beyond the drugs and fear she would believe he had some mental issues or was bipolar.

She instead goes to move her hands, move her body away, _anything_ to not have to have more drugs. She didn't want it, she didn't want to feel doped up and be at his mercy. She didn't _want_ it. As the needle approaches her neck, Max resorts to the last thing she can possible think of. Begging.

"Please," she whispers in an uneven voice, "please n-no more. I'll do anything."

Jefferson seems to pause for a moment, needle hovering inches away from her neck. Max nearly thinks she's stopped him, until the icy needle jabs into her skin.

"Just relax, Max. This'll make you feel better."

"N-No . . . "

But her voice catches in her throat as the drug takes control and the last thing she sees before drifting off into darkness is Jefferson's malevolent smile.

Chloe nearly doesn't want to wake Max when she pulls into the motel she finds on the state border.

The sign isn't lit up all the way and there's only five other cars in the parking lot, but it's the best they've come across in their travels so far and she really wanted a hot shower and cozy bed to sleep on.

With a heavy heart she turns towards Max and goes to reach out to her, but stops when she notices Max's body stirring in her sleep. Her lips are moving, fingers trembling, and shoulders contracting as she tries to ward off whatever nightmare is plaguing her. Chloe's lips twitch downwards in a frown as she watches her friend, and she wishes she could do something to help her.

She only had a small idea of what Max had gone through to get to their present right now, and she didn't seem too keen on sharing any details. The only thing Chloe knew was what Max had told her outside the Vortex Club party, and even then Chloe had a hunch that Max was still hiding things.

Or hadn't told her everything.

She wanted to help her, but she couldn't do that if Max wouldn't let her in.

Come to think of it, Max's been intensely quiet since they've left Arcadia Bay. That wasn't like her. Something had happened. Something had snapped. And hell if Chloe was going to let Max suffer in silence.

All she could do for now was wake her, so she did with a gentle shake to Max's shoulder. Max jolts awake, looking around frantically before her eyes settle on Chloe. The girl in question offers a smile, as it seems that's all she can do, and jerks her head towards the small motel in front of the truck.

"Found us somewhere to stay." Max nods, already trying to dismiss her odd actions, and leaning down to grab her bag. Chloe can't help but notice that Max's movements are shaky and that her eyes keep glancing down to her necklace every time she thinks Chloe isn't looking.

* * *

The motel offers cheap prices for a quick stay, which is what the two take when talking to the old lady stationed at the front desk. After they pay and are given their key, Chloe offers to head to the crummy gift shop downstairs to get them another pair of clothes to wear, and she nearly succeeds to walk out the door without the credit card but Max stops her with an iron grip on her wrist and a short rant on how _stealing isn't going to help anything, Chloe_.

The card exchanges hands and Chloe vanishes down the hallway, Max closing the door behind her.

She takes a small glance around the room in the meantime.

It's pretty small, with a large window showing a grand view of the parking lot and a trifling oak desk in one corner. A queen sized bed covers the middle of the room, with neatly made white sheets and a black fluffy blanket. A television stand sits in front of the bed next to the bathroom door, remote neatly settled in front. Two pictures decorate the walls, one of a vibrant flower vase and another of a lonely tree with a wooden swing hanging from its branches.

Max makes her way into the bathroom, removing her bag from around her shoulder to place it on the side of the sink.

The toilet is shiny, clean, and the bath is a pretty good size with only a partly-rusted showerhead. There's a mirror dangling above the sink and Max takes a moment to look herself over. Her hair is frizzy and dark bags are adorning her weary eyes. Her body sags from fatigue, even though she knows she's gotten more sleep in the past twenty-four hours than Chloe, and her legs feel like they're going to give out on her any second.

With a heavy exhale Max diverts her attention to her bag and unzips the side pocket, revealing her phone. She taps the screen once and the device lights up with twenty unread messages and one voicemail.

Her heart jumps a little when she sees that people she knows, people she's friends with, people she loves, are okay and alive. The clock at the top of her phone says it's quarter to twelve at night in florescent colors as her finger clicks on the orange messages tab.

Five are from Warren, who mostly asks if she's okay and to call him when she gets the chance, five more are from Joyce who fires question after question about if Chloe's with her, where they are, if they're still breathing and things among that. Nine more are from her mom and the last one is from her dad, begging her to answer them.

Max knew her father hated texting and his text showed how worried her parents were. Next she brings up the voicemail, from three hours ago, lifting her phone up to her ear. Her mother's worried voice emits from the other end of the phone.

"Hi honey. It's Mom. I'm just calling to check up on you, to make sure you're okay. Your father and I, w-we heard about the tornado on the news. They haven't even gotten to clean up any wreckage yet and the deaths . . . they don't have any idea how many d-d-died."

Her voice catches and Max hears a soft mutter of comfort from the background, presumably her father, before her mother continues.

"Oh honey. Please don't be gone. I-I don't know what we would do without you." She stops again, failing to hide a sniffle. "I've got to go now, honey. Please, _please_ call me back as soon as you can Max. I love you." Max hears her mother blow her nose away from the phone before correcting herself. " _We_ love you, sweetheart."

The voicemail stops and Max wipes at her eyes a few times before lowering her cellphone.

She exits the bathroom and walks over to the bed, taking a seat on the soft material. With a shaking hand she goes to her contacts and presses her mom's number just as Chloe bustles back into the room with two bags full of clothes and food.

"Hey Max, got us some hella cool shit and I only spent a hundred bucks." She shrugs and sets the bag full of clothes on the ground next to the bathroom door and then the food bag on the other side, not noticing Max on the phone as she continues to talk. "Changed up your wardrobe a bit with some punk clothes, but I'm sure you won't mind. It was either that or some country crap."

She fakes a shiver as she empties her pockets onto the television stand, "There was also food so you know I had to fill up on that—"

"Hi, Mom." Max states as soon as her phone stops ringing and her mother picks up.

Chloe stops and looks back, putting her hands up in surrender when she sees the look Max is giving her. "Sorry, sorry," she murmurs as she grabs some clothes from the bag and heads into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her.

Her mother gasps from the other end before answering with a tearful, "Max?" and then calling for her husband. Max smiles, pushing a hair out of her way at the same time the shower turns on in the bathroom.

"It's me, Mom."

Her mother can't hold back the sob that leaves her. "Oh, honey! Are you okay, are you hurt?"

She hears her father's deep voice from the background ask something, to which her mom responds to with an emotional _yes, it's her_. "I'm fine, Mom. I'm with a friend. Chloe Price, actually. You remember her, right? We uh . . . we left Arcadia Bay about a day before the storm hit to visit her aunt outside the city. We're safe."

The lie physically hurts as it tumbles out, and Max unintentionally peeks towards the closed door in front of her to make sure Chloe wasn't going to walk out and overhear her. Her mom lets out a thick sigh of relief, "Of course I remember Chloe, honey. It's so great to hear that you're okay, that you're both okay." She laughs now, a watery laugh that causes Max to tear up a little.

"We're okay." She repeats, as her father calls out something from the background that her mother relays through the phone.

"Your father says he loves you and hopes you two are being careful. I second that."

Max is the one to chuckle this time, it's quiet and resigned but it's there. "I love you guys too. I have to go now, but I'll text you guys first thing tomorrow morning." Her mother seems hesitant in letting her daughter leave so quickly and tries to stall but Max is able to ease her worries with a few more white lies before they both bid their farewells and Max hangs up the phone.

She gets rid of the tears threatening to escape and stands up, placing her phone next to the piles of crap from Chloe's jean pockets. Amidst the junk lies Chloe's phone and Max picks it up with a spare glance towards the door. They always snooped through each other's phones before, so Max didn't understand why she felt so guilty wanting to go through it now. She just wanted to see if anyone tried to reach her.

The water shuts off as Max reads through the only messages in her phone from recently; only two people cared enough to text her and make sure she was okay.

One message was from David, with a simple line of _okay_ with a question mark after it that Chloe answered with a rough _I'm okay_ earlier that day. The only other person who had texted her was Joyce, who, after Max investigated a little bit, also left three voicemails and ten missed calls in her wake until Chloe answered her through text about two hours ago.

[5:00 pm] Chloe?

[5:30 pm] Hon? Are you alright?

[6:12 pm] Oh Chloe. Please be okay.

[7:43 pm] Everyone's here. Or, everyone we know at least.

[8:59 pm] But no one's said they've seen you.

[9:17 pm] Please tell me you're still here.

Chloe's text came next, a wave of relief amongst a sea of uncertainly.

[9:49 pm] i'm ok, mom

[9:52 pm] Chloe? Oh thank God.  
[9:53 pm] What happened? Where are you?

[9:55 pm] i'm with max. we made it out before the storm.  
[9:55 pm] she wanted pictures  
[9:56 pm] of that ice-cream shop outside the city  
[9:58 pm] for school

Max felt her stomach flip, and something broke inside of her. Chloe could've said the truth, she could've said anything in the world—how the tornado was Max's fault, how Max had powers, how Max chose her over an entire city full of innocent people—but she didn't. Instead she came up with a string of lies to protect her, and the thought made Max not feel good. What in the hell did she do?

Pushing the sick feeling aside, she continues scrolling.

[9:59 pm] I'm glad you two are safe. I'm glad you got out of here.

[10:00 pm] me too

[10:02 pm] A lot of people didn't make it through this  
[10:02 pm] And when we couldn't find your body  
[10:03 pm] When we couldn't find you  
[10:03 pm] I thought the worse had happened to my baby girl.

[10:05 pm] i'm sorry i didn't tell you i was leaving

[10:07 pm] It's alright, hon. I'm just really glad you're okay.  
[10:10 pm] Are you . . .  
[10:10 pm] Are you gonna come back home soon?

There's a distinct pause in the messages then, a halt for an official answer that stretches nearly five minutes.

[10:15 pm] idk, mom

[10:16 pm] Chloe. Hon.

[10:18 pm] max and i  
[10:18 pm] we need some time  
[10:18 pm] just to get away for a little while  
[10:20 pm] i swear we'll be careful, mom

Another pause. This time from Joyce's end. Max is so busy with the messages that she doesn't even hear the bathroom door open.

[10:25 pm] Promise me one thing then, Chloe. Please.

[10:26 pm] anything

[10:30 pm] You two take care of each other, and don't do anything stupid.  
[10:31 pm] You two be safe.  
[10:34 pm] Promise me.

[10:35 pm] i promise mom

[10:36 pm] Okay. I love you. Both of you.  
[10:37 pm] David too.

[10:38 pm] i  
[10:40 pm] i love you guys too. stay safe

"I would think Spider-Max would be a little sneakier."

Max jumps three feet into the air at the sarcastic sound of Chloe's voice, quickly dropping the phone back onto the television stand and taking multiple steps away from it. Turning towards Chloe, she puts her hands up in surrender. "I am so sorry Chloe, I didn't mean to—to go through your stuff. Don't be mad. Don't be mad."

The latter is dressed in fresh clothes—a white tee-shirt with a paint splatter graphic on the front and black sweatpants—and is giving Max a confused look. She tries to take a step towards her, but Max takes two steps back, like she's afraid of her.

Chloe knows something wrong, knows something is up.

"Max," she starts, unsure how to calm her, "it's completely okay. I was just kidding. Alright?" She takes another step forwards and Max doesn't move. "Chill out, dude." Max nods, and Chloe swears her friend's eyes are glassy. "Um," she stammers through her words as she points towards the clothes bag, "there's some clothes in there for you too."

Max mutters her thanks in a hushed voice as she hurries with picking some clothes out from the bag and then heading into the bathroom. Chloe busies herself with looking up stuff on her phone, television a dull hum in the background, as Max silently cries from the shower.

Chloe doesn't hear her.

Max doesn't think anyone ever will.

When Max comes out of the bathroom dressed in a plain black tee-shirt, black sweats with some words printed up the side in a line and a strangely silent exterior, Chloe decides not to push her and instead flips through the channels until they both settle on one that's playing The Blade Runner. Neither share too much conversation and Max drifts off to sleep first around two in the morning, and then Chloe follows.

* * *

Max awakes from her sleep by a nightmare of Jefferson around four in the morning.

She startles, covered in a cold sweat as she looks around the room wildly. It's the worst nightmare she's had yet and it shoots her blood pressure through the roof, disorients her, scares her half to death.

Chloe is rousing slowly next to her, obviously shaken awake by the frantic nature of Max's movements as she throws the blanket off of her and blunders out of bed. Chloe lifts her head hazily, wiping at her eyes in a feeble attempt at trying to wake up. "Max?" She mumbles in question, still half-asleep. Max doesn't know where to go, standing in the middle of the room, looking from the curtains over the window to the dark bathroom.

Chloe sits up just in time to see Max run out of the motel room instead.

"Shit," she grumbles, instantly awake as she staggers out of bed and out the door after Max. She gets out to the long hallway and sees no sign of Max, her heart pounding violently. She had spent her time earlier looking up PTSD and things like that—symptoms Max had. Repeats of what had happened to Kate thundered through her head as she struggled with trying to figure out where her friend had gone.

After looking around for a minute, she sees a knocked over plant towards the stairs.

"Shit, Max," Chloe mutters as she sprints towards it, taking the stairs two at a time as she hurries down them. She makes it to the lobby to see it's empty, and her heart is going crazy, her mind going into overdrive. She can't lose her. She can't.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees the front door drift closed and runs for it, getting outside and seeing the shadow of Max's body out in the parking lot, illuminated by the pale light from the arising sky.

She doesn't care who hears her, who she wakes up.

Because she'll be damned if she lets Max die on her watch after all they've been through.

"Max!" Max stops running, flipping around to face Chloe. She's a few feet away from standing on the highway. Chloe approaches her, getting close enough to her so that she could reach out, but Max takes a step back. "Max," she repeats, "where are you running to? What happened?" Max's mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water. "Max." Chloe says again, softer this time as she tries to reach out to take her hand, "Talk to me."

The seconds after that pass in slow motion, and as a bird squawks from somewhere far off, Max falls into Chloe's arms sobbing. Chloe catches her easily, careful when she wraps her arms around her and holds tight. Max is talking, bawling about something that Chloe can catch only bits and pieces of.

She can only piece together Jefferson's name, how much it hurt, how scared she is, and how many people she's killed. Chloe solely holds Max, deciding she's not ever going to let go until she's okay again, murmuring gentle reassurances in her ear.

When Max's sobs are reduced to soft sniffles a little while later, Chloe gets the answer as to why Max was running. "I was trying to get away, to get away from it all." She whispers into Chloe's shoulder, whimpering with a shake of her head. "That's why I wanted to leave Arcadia. I wanted to get away from it all. From him, from the people I've doomed, from everything. I've killed _so many_ people, Chloe."

"I'm sorry Max. I'm so fucking sorry that I couldn't save you from there, save you from all of this. But that son of a bitch is gone, and so is the tornado. You didn't kill anyone. Mom said mostly everyone's safe, and they're still sorting through the rumble for anyone they're missing. There were a lot of deaths, yeah, but it wasn't your fault. Listen to me Max, we're out of that place and I'm right here with you. And I'm not gonna let anyone do anything to you ever again. Okay? I got your back. I got you."

Max says nothing for a while, and the two are standing in the motel parking lot in the middle of nowhere with an early morning chill in the air that's nearly freezing them out in their freaking pajamas, but it doesn't bother them.

"You aren't gonna leave me?"

Chloe smiles, finally pulling back from the hug and instead slinging an arm around Max's shoulders, leading them back towards the motel entrance. "I'm not gonna leave you. You're hella stuck with me, Super Max."

Chloe knows Max still has a lot to heal from, but hell if she's letting her go through it alone.

It was time for her to be the superhero.


End file.
